


Handgun

by deluxemycroft



Series: Snicker verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Agender Character, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Tattooed Sam, Tattoos, sexual...stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 13:30:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3979789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deluxemycroft/pseuds/deluxemycroft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets another tattoo. As usual, its for Dean. Also, Benny looks really good in stockings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handgun

Every tattoo was always a bit of an ordeal. No matter where it went on his body, Sam had to spend about two weeks constantly aware of himself, making sure not to lean against a table or put clothes on too quickly or accidentally stretch the skin. Tattoos scratched an itch deep inside his soul but they always hurt a little more than he expected them to.

He got the first one at Stanford, before Jess. He couldn’t remember which one it was, but he thought it was one of the ones on his legs. Probably a quote. Pre-cage Sam had always been a big fan of quotes.

Now-Sam wasn’t really a fan of anything other than Dean. Dean kept him safe and alive and healthy and standing on his own two feet when Sam felt like he was going to drown in an ocean of fire and hooks and fury. 

Perhaps it had been one of the protection runes on his arm. 

He didn’t know.

Sam looked away from the mirror and down at the stinging handgun on his foot. It was a pretty decent copy of the white-handled gun—Sam couldn’t remember the name—Dean liked the most. Not perfect, but good enough. Sam didn’t need perfection anymore. The artist had managed to work around some of the scars and Sam couldn’t wait until it was healed so he could stroke each separate swirl and know Dean was keeping him safe even if he wasn’t around.

He looked up at the quiet murmur of his name. Benny was standing in the doorway, a tube of A&D ointment in one hand and a damp paper towel in the other. They’d picked Sam up from the tattoo parlor after Sam had ended up there and had helped Sam strip down to his boxers and a shirt once the two of them had gotten back home.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Benny murmured, and gently led Sam to sit at the edge of his and Dean’s bed. Vaguely, Sam wondered if it was weird for Benny to know their partner was still sleeping with his brother. Benny knelt down to press the paper towel to Sam’s tattoo and then sat next to him, reassuring and wide and as comforting as always.

“This is Dean’s gun, then?” they asked, scooping Snicker up off the floor and tucking him under their arm. Sam nodded, leaning his head on Benny’s shoulder and resting his hand on their thigh.

Benny was wearing a lace bra underneath a sheer white tank top, over a short skirt and knee-high black stockings. They were wearing their usual black cap and sneakers. Sam couldn’t stop looking at the curl of grey-silver hairs peeking over their shirt and he wanted to lick up Benny’s wide legs and curl up inside their crotch.

Instead, Sam took a deep breath and pushed Benny’s hand off the paper towel, making sure to rub off the film of plasma and dried blood before taking the tube of ointment out of Benny’s hand and flipping open the cap.

Benny cleared their throat. “Mind if I do that for ya?”

Shrugging, Sam handed the tube over and closed his eyes, feeling something warm swoop in his stomach as Benny stroked wide fingertips over his fresh tattoo.

“You smell good,” Benny admitted after a few quiet minutes. 

Sam pressed his nose to Benny’s neck and sniffed them, twisting his neck so he could press his mouth to Benny’s shoulder. “So d’you,” he slurred, and Benny chuckled, dislodging Sam from their shoulder and standing up, tossing the paper towel in the trash and pulling Sam to his feet.

“Let’s go watch a movie. You can suck my dick if you want, since you keep lookin’ at it.”

Sam tugged them out to the living room, pushing Benny onto the couch and curling up on top of them, putting Snicker on the table. Benny tilted their head up, mouth seeking Sam’s, and Sam met them, hot bursts of sunlight heating him up from the inside out. Benny always warmed him up.

Benny’s hands dropped down to cradle Sam’s butt and they grunted, pulling Sam flush against them, flush from crotch to chest. Sam was tucked in the cradle of Benny’s wide thighs, their stocking-clad calves rubbing up against Sam’s bare legs. Sam broke apart to tug off his shirt and pull off Benny’s sneakers, absently petting their calves.

His foot ached and Sam shifted around so he could rest it on the table, leaning uncomfortably into Benny’s torso. Benny sat up and grabbed the remote, flicking the TV on and then looking down at Sam with dark, hooded eyes.

Sam tilted up and melded their mouths together, clutching at Benny’s sheer shirt and then shoving his hands underneath it, moaning into Benny’s mouth as he grabbed onto Benny’s stomach. Benny made a soft sound, and tipped their head back, sitting up for a brief moment to slip their shirt off and toss it behind the couch.

Someone made a surprised sound and both Benny and Sam froze.

Sam bounced up and glared at his brother, who was picking Benny’s shirt off his face. “Nice toss,” Dean offered, and balled their shirt up to throw it back. “Guess you two didn’t hear me come in.”

“What are you doing here?!” Sam squawked, pulling Benny up into a seating position before twisting around to push his foot over the back of the couch. “Look at what I did!”

Dean raised an eyebrow at Benny as they pulled their shirt back on. “What’d you let him do?” he asked as he came over and picked up Sam’s foot in his palm. “Oh, Sammy…”

Sam grinned. Dean looked at him like he was Dean’s last breath of oxygen.

Benny felt like they were intruding on a private moment and they cleared their throat, tugging their legs from underneath Sam and straightening up. Sam reached blindly behind himself and grabbed one of Benny’s hands, holding it up between them.

“Benny picked me up,” Sam admitted, tugging his foot out of Dean’s grasp and sliding back on the couch to lean against Benny’s side, facing the TV. Dean came around the couch to sit on the cushion next to Sam, slinging his arm behind Sam’s shoulders. 

Cuddled and warm between the two loves of his life, Sam fell asleep, stinging foot in Dean’s lap and his torso curled up against Benny’s wide side.


End file.
